


Census

by chequed



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-26
Updated: 2013-01-26
Packaged: 2017-11-27 01:11:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 523
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/656367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chequed/pseuds/chequed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was intended to be PWP, but that didn't happen at all.  Instead, I got a lot of character reflection and angst.  Turns out, I liked it more than what I'd originally began.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Census

The times that Stiles falls asleep with the betas are some of Derek's favorite moments. He can watch him, study him, observe him -- unchecked. He can let his eyes claim what his fingers will not touch. He can breathe in his scent, and let his heart yearn until the ache of it grows even tighter than the ache in his groin.

Derek watches the pulse in the teen's neck thrum like it's a special kind of music, an orchestra that only he can see and hear. No one seems to appreciate Stiles' beauty and rhythm quite like he does. He prefers it that way.

He loves the way Stiles' pale skin showcases every mole and freckle. The way it curves over his lean frame and muscle, down from his neck to his collar bones. He's lost count of the number of times he's had to silently restrain himself from tugging down the collar of whatever graphic tee Stiles is sporting that day, to see the pale flesh spread out over his chest and abdomen. Derek wants to count every dot on his body, number them and chart them, create a census of spots to press his lips. He wants to lick them too, to see if they taste as good as Stiles smells.

The Alpha is watching Stiles so closely as his entire pack sleeps, that he sees the exact moment goosebumps form on his skin, responding to a chill that none of the werewolves feel. The only human in a puppy pile, and he's still not warm enough. Without thinking twice, Derek slips his leather jacket off his arms and covers Stiles with it, sad to hide the little bare skin, save his face, that's visible from his eyes while at the same time loving that Stiles is now draped in his own scent.

Stiles barely stirs once covered, but he warms almost immediately, smiling softly in his sleep. Derek is gratified to see and feel it and yet his mind ruptures and splits, not for the first time since meeting the sheriff's son.

The wolfish part of him howls out for him to claim, claim, claim. To pull Stiles into his lap and take his mouth in a possessive growl of a kiss, and nibble and bite until Stiles is writhing and begging to be consumed. The human part of Derek, the insecure, grieving teen locked in an adult's body, can't bear the thought of ever marring Stiles like that, ever cursing him with his inappropriate, animalistic desires. Until Stiles, Derek had felt that his wolf and his human were one, that he was a singular creature, but now he feels torn in two. The only thing both sides agree on is that Stiles should be protected - how to do so is up for battle.

And so Derek sits, watching over his pack, but mainly watching over Stiles. He tells himself the attraction that's eating him up inside will fade eventually, but that's his human side again because his wolf simply laughs. His werewolf insists that this _need_ will never fade, not until it consumes Derek. Or Stiles. Or both -- whole.


End file.
